Engagements
by Cyberwolf
Summary: Yet another Allura's-engaged-to-a-prince fic. With a twist. Crossover with WEP's other anime-turned-cartoon, Saber Rider.
1. in which we see the princess

            The Voltron Force was a team dedicated to protecting Arus from the invading dreams of Zarkon; highly-trained, competent pilots of five robot Lions who were deadly alone and quite unbeatable when united. The majority of the team were Space Explorers – Keith, their captain; Lance, his second-in-command; Pidge, the young computer genius; Sven, the talented Scandinavian who, sadly, had to leave their company; and Hunk, good-natured, unbelievably strong and very protective – who had graduated from the prestigious Galaxy Garrison military academy with good standing. And although the fifth member of their little group, Princess Allura, had not had the martial training her teammates did, she nonetheless had learnt how to handle herself, as it were, on-the-job. They were a very capable group of young people, managing to beat the odds time and time again, and usually retain their good humor throughout all this. 

Today, however, the Force was not happy.

            To understand the cause for their unhappiness, one must first understand that the Force was very much a single, cohesive unit. They were bound as intrinsically to each other's lives as the threads of a single fabric. Lance and Keith had been best friends practically since birth, closer to each other than most brothers were; in Galaxy Garrison's military academy they had added Sven, Hunk and Pidge to their fraternity. And since arriving on Arus, they had not only grown closer to each other but also adopted Princess Allura as one of them. The battles against Zarkon and Lotor and the Robeasts had forged a bond between them more powerful, in ways, than the bonds to their own families.

            They were protective of each other, and resentful of any attempt to break those bonds or to insert an intrusive element into their relationships with each other. This is why when Allura, pale and upset, told the boys what Koran had just told her…they were most definitely unhappy. One (I will not mention names, especially the names of dark-haired, Black-Lion-piloting captains) was even more unhappy than the others – but they were all very much against this new development.

***

            "Arus has had many allies, Princess," Koran began. The elderly man was very straight-backed as he spoke, a sure sign that whatever he had to say involved the fate of his beloved Arus in some way. His face betrayed no sign of emotion – Nanny, who was the only other person aside from Allura in the room, was very noticeably beaming. As sometimes what made Nanny happy and what made Allura happy differed widely, Allura was beginning to become somewhat wary.

            "But our greatest allies have always been those of the Prydain sector. For generations upon generations, our two sectors have been as the closest of friends – if one proposed a measure, the other would immediately back it up, against all opponents; if one was attacked, the other would take it as a violation of their own borders. Some even said that the two sectors acted more as one."

            A dreadful suspicion was growing in Allura's mind.

            "Your father and the king of Prydain were great friends. They liked the idea…liked it so much that they pledged both of their children to each other in marriage, in order to unite the kingdoms. We have just managed to contact the royalty of Prydain. They are on their way. You will meet your future husband in a week." 

            Nanny squealed in delight as Koran finished his speech. "Ohhh, isn't it just like a fairy tale?" she rhapsodized. "Two kingdoms forever united in harmony and love. I've seen a picture of the prince, Allura…he is so handsome, such a noble figure! Yes, my child, you will look so beautiful together…a dashing prince and a beautiful princess, just as it is like in the storybooks!" 

            Allura could only gape at her two guardians, her mouth hanging open in a display that was not very fairy-tale-princess-like. She was quite literally speechless. Several words did spring to mind, but they were from Lance's vocabulary and she didn't think Koran or Nanny would greatly appreciate hearing them.

*** 

            So, the Force was unhappy. They had gone around the castle with scowls on their faces. Keith attacked the repairs on his Lion with ferocious intensity; Pidge wandered around disconsolately; and Hunk and Lance hovered protectively about Allura like some sort of really dangerous bodyguards. 

            They had approached Koran, trying to see if there was any way to, er, get around the betrothal – since Allura was so obviously, er again, upset. Koran had gone very stiff and informed them that the engagement was iron-clad, so legal it would make your head hurt, as binding as chains, made before the two involved were even born thus taking precedence over any other agreements, and also to refuse it would be foolishness, since it would offend the Prydaini…and you did not want to offend the Prydaini. So it was no go there.

            Furthermore, Nanny had somehow found out about the Force pestering Koran about the engagement – and confronted them with all the fury of a tornado. She upbraided them soundly and roundly, leaving them with hung heads and mumbling replies. It seemed that seeing her precious Allura wed to a handsome, dashing, and most of all royal prince was a fond dream of hers. 

            So all in all, they were not in a friendly mood to receive the Prydaini royal party when they arrived. The shuttle which landed in front of the Castle of Lions was sleek and shining and in other circumstances might have drawn admiration from the spacecraft-appreciative boys; but right now, to them, it would feel like admiring the craftsmanship of a Robeast. The door, with the coat-of-arms of Prydain's ruling House displayed prominently, slid aside, and the royals descended. 

            Princess Allura, Koran at her side, waited at the palace steps to receive them – just as protocol demanded. She was dressed in a long, flowing gown in Arus's traditional colors. Her golden hair was swept up in an elaborate coiffure from which a few strands escaped to dangle fetchingly, framing her deep blue eyes. The Arusian coronet of heirs to the throne glinted in the morning sun – after the wedding, Koran advised her, she'd be formally crowned Queen of Arus, with the two Crowns of Lions for her and her husband. 

            Behind her, in a straight, militarily-precise line, glared the boys from the Force. They were clothed in formal Arusian wear, the dress uniforms of the Royal Guard of Arus. Nanny, who stood, smiling widely, just behind Koran, had had the uniforms sewn up for the Force, and then bullied them into wearing them.

            As if they hadn't enough reasons to resent the coming of the prince, Nanny had added one more.

            Princess Allura involuntarily gave a little gasp at her first sight of the king of the Prydain. He was a tall man, dark-haired with gray at the temples that added a distinguished look. He sported a short, well-trimmed beard and mustache. He was handsome enough, but what struck Allura was the aura of easy command he had, the way he wrapped power around him like a comfortable cloak. This was a man born to rule – and rule well. She had only known one other man who looked like that…her father…

            The woman at his side, undoubtedly the queen, was extraordinarily beautiful. Allura, who had had to read material on Prydain after Koran told her about the royal party coming to visit, knew that the Prydaini quite adored their petite, blonde-haired queen. When King Lan married her, his subjects proclaimed that their king had won the most beautiful woman in the kingdom – nay, the galaxy. Looking at her, Allura could see that there was some claim to the statement aside from patriotism. Her face was still mostly unlined, and the years had added a maturity to girlish prettiness that made it both lovely and awe-inspiring at the same time; a suggestion of tempered steel, sculpted steel, beneath the silk. She wore a dress just as elaborate as Allura's own, and the Princess recognized the subtle compliment conveyed therein. Protocol stated that, as a queen rather than a princess, Queen Jalanda outranked Allura – and thus did not really have to dress as well. But she had, implying she saw Allura as an equal. 

            And the prince. Allura surreptitiously studied the young man - her own age – who quite likely would become her future husband. All the Arusians did. He was a few inches taller than his father, though not quite as broad in the shoulders. He was dressed, like the king, in a black high-collared military tunic, sharply-creased white trousers and black dress shoes. A scabbard wrought of rare black Polarian ivory hung from his belt, with the hilt of some ceremonial sword gleaming above it; a coronet much like Allura's proclaimed his royal status, little more than a thin band of white gold around his head.

            The three royals proceeded to where the Arusian party awaited them. Once there, Koran and the boys – coached by Nanny over the last few days – swept deep bows; Allura then dropped a graceful curtsey. 

            "Greetings, Your Majesties, Your Highness. We bid you welcome to the Castle of Lions." 

            King Lan bowed gravely back. "We are honored to be here, Your Highness." 

            Beside him, Queen Jalanda curtsied as well. "Honored, and delighted. Arus is as beautiful as I remember it," she said, her voice a clear silver tone. Her amber eyes sparkled merrily, and Allura found herself believing it when the Queen said she was delighted to be here. She smiled at the Queen. 

            The Queen smiled back at her, and turned to Koran. "Koran, you have reason to be proud. Arus is ruled by a princess as beautiful as she is smart – and from what I've heard," she winked at Allura, completely ignoring royal protocol and charming Allura the more, "she's very smart." 

            Koran nodded back. "Yes," he said simply, not betraying any emotion – but Allura could feel the waves of pride rolling off him. She herself could not help but feel extremely complimented. To have one's beauty praised by someone whose own face was hailed the galaxy over…

            Then the prince stepped up beside his mother. He bowed to her, an act of sheer elegance, and spoke his own polite, exquisitely correct phrases to answer the greeting of one heir to the throne to another. Standing as he was beside Jalanda, it was easy to see that the prince had obviously taken after his mother in most matters concerning looks, having her blond hair and aristocratic features. She had been concentrating so much on welcoming his parents she had nearly forgotten him – or maybe pushed the matter of her incumbent fiancé to the back of her mind. 

            She extended her right hand, and just as the many etiquette books Nanny had made her study over and over again said, he gently took it in his own and raised it to his lips. It was done as smoothly and correctly as ballet. Allura could just picture the rapturous expression on Nanny's face at the sight.

            Allura wanted to weep. Someone this well-mannered would be a horrible strain on her nerves. She'd have to be constantly reviewing her etiquette books in her head, and remembering everything, and…

            Eyes met eyes. Allura expected a carefully neutral look, a wary sizing-up of his future wife – for the betrothal bound him as much as her – or, in the worst case scenario, either sheer lust or sheer idiocy. She did not expect verdant-hued eyes to be glittering mischievously in the prince's face, speaking to her as clearly as words.

            _Isn't it tedious, all the things we have to do to be proper? _He was saying, grinning in his eyes if not in his expression. _Oh well, we might as well go along with them for now. _

            Allura found herself smiling back – a real smile, not one forced or uncertain. _Yes, for as long as we must._ She lightly rolled her eyes, not enough for anyone but him to see. _The price of being royal._

            The light in his eyes danced. He was laughing silently. 

*** 

            The Space Explorers shifted and wriggled in their new finery, unused to the cut of the uniforms. Their discomfort, however, in no way hindered their ability to take uncomplimentary measures of the boy who was supposed to marry Allura. 

            "Just look at the guy," whispered Lance. "Why not just give him a red cape with a big S on it?"

            "Pretty-boy," sniffed Hunk derisively. 

            "I wonder if his parents ordered him from the Barbie Doll catalog," snickered Pidge. "He looks like molded plastic – bet he's got the same IQ, too." 

            They hardly heard Allura's greeting or the responses of the king and queen – they were too busy glaring at the cardboard cutout. The prince noticed Lance's perusal and sent him a friendly look; in reply, Lance gave him his most unfriendly 'I-don't-trust-you' glare. The friendly expression flickered into startled confusion. 

            Then he turned back to Allura. He spoke a few words, and bent over Allura's hand. The Force could not quite see him because Allura was right in front of him – still they knew he kissed her hand, and were quite disgusted by it.

            "Like I'd let my hand be smushed to the lips of some stranger!" complained Lance to Pidge – quietly. "Doesn't he know normal people don't kiss random body parts just to say goodbye or hello!" 

            "He thinks it's the seventeenth century," sniggered Hunk. 

            Keith just stood very straight-backed and tall, pulling himself up for every inch of height he could. He kept silent, the very image of a soldier at attention – but his dark eyes practically flashed lightning. 

            They then proceeded into the Castle. Allura, as hostess, took the arm of King Lan and led the way; Queen Jalanda took Koran's. The prince, bowing to Nanny and further winning her over, took the chubby nurse's arm – that left Lance, Keith, Pidge and Hunk to follow at the rear, glaring at the prince's back. Once, probably feeling their eyes on him, he turned to look uncertainly at the four soldiers following him. They all, to a man, did not drop their glares, and he turned back to the front with a truly baffled look on his face. 

            They entered a small, exquisitely appointed room just off the throne-room. The place was as formal and expensive-looking as the throne-room, but furnished with several formal chairs round a long, oaken table – where Arusian royalty received visiting royals or high-ranking nobles 'informally'.

            As they entered, Nanny turned to look at the     boys. _Stay outside! _Her look said plainly. So, grumbling, they lined up like guards – which is what they were dressed up as anyway – to stand sentry outside the door. 

 Pidge withdrew from one of his pockets a small black disc. He pressed it against the thick wooden door, grunting in satisfaction as a small diode on the disc blinked green. He then pulled out a small, handheld speaker, and fiddled with it for a moment. 

            "What's that you're doing, Squirt?" asked Lance, peering at what Pidge held. 

            "Don't you want to know what they're saying?" 

            Immediately the others crowded around the youngest member of the Force. 

            A burst of static squealed through the speaker; Pidge frowned and twirled a dial. The static subsided and voices began to issue from the speaker. 

            It was all small talk at first, the king and queen complimenting Koran and Allura on the state of Arus, and they in turn praising the ruling of Prydain. They then began to speak of Zarkon, and the royals expressed their surprise at learning that Allura herself piloted the Blue Lion. 

            "I think it's very admirable," the prince said, his first real comment throughout the conversation. Keith scowled, and snatched the speaker. He glared at it as if it were the prince he held in his hand. Pidge wanted to tell him not to squeeze his speaker so hard, but one look at his captain's face made him fall silent. 

            "A ruler who will fight for her people is one who no doubt really cares for them, and it brings her closer to them, more of a perspective I think, then just giving orders to someone else and letting them do the fighting. Isn't that what you always say, Father?" and his tone became lightly teasing. It seemed to be an old joke between the Prydaini royals. 

            "And besides," came the queen's silvery tones, "it's so nice to see a woman with the combat experience and capability to keep her generals from bullying her, isn't it?" They all laughed. 

            The talk continued. They began to discuss various affairs of state, tricks of diplomacy that other nations were doing, and how it might affect their own nations. Despite themselves, the boys began to get bored. Lance and Hunk leaned against the wall, carrying on their own whispered conversation. Pidge began to tinker with yet another of the little gadgets he had secreted on his person. Only Keith remained in the same position, gripping the little speaker tightly and staring at it.

            And then it happened. Koran said, "…yes, and if we time it right, perhaps the wedding can coincide with the Festival of Rivos."

            Immediately the Force clustered around Keith, their heads bent close to the speaker.

            A sound like two hands clapped together in delight. "An excellent idea, Koran!" said the queen. 

            "…excuse me. What wedding are we talking about?" 

            The Force stared at the speaker, unable to believe what the prince just said.

            A sound like a sigh. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Koran," King Lan apologized to Koran. "We meant to tell you – we sort of kept it secret from our son before we left. We were going to tell him once we were on Arus."

            "He's horribly stubborn," the queen added. "He might have not come otherwise. He keeps going off to do things of his own, you know, despite what we say. You can't imagine the headaches we get over him."

            "Oh, I can imagine," came Koran's and Nanny's voices at the same time. The boys could just imagine the dry glances they would flick at Allura at that point. 

            "Pardon me," the prince said again, his voice beginning to rise ever so slightly. "But you haven't answered my question. Mother…Father…what's going on?" There was a suspicious tinge in his voice that suggested that he did, in fact, have some inkling of what was going on. 

            "Darling…meet Allura, your betrothed."

            There was a long silence.

            "WHAT?!" 


	2. in which the prince is reluctant

*** 

            Saber Rider lay back against the soft leather seat of the spacecraft. His eyes began to close, pulled inexorably shut by the force of his sheer drowsiness. He drifted off into slumber, remaining just barely conscious enough to hear the soft footfalls of his mother as she stood beside him. He felt a blanket being draped over him, and then the gentle touch of his mother's hand as she pushed back his bangs in a movement as familiar to him as his own name. It had been a part of young Saber's bedtime tucking in, and he had to admit that something deep inside of him had missed it. 

            They had been relaxing on planet Yuma – him, April, Colt and Fireball – idly discussing the possibility of visiting planet Yacarob – the famous beach-resort planet – for their upcoming three weeks of R&R when his parents had called him. They really missed him, they explained. It had been nearly seven months since they'd last seen each other face-to-face. They were planning a vacation tour, and please, could Saber join them? It had been so long since they had all gone together, on vacation, as a family.

            Spurred by guilt, filial duty, and an honest desire to see his family again, he told the others to plan without him. They, of course, were rather disappointed to lose him – but, as he pointed out, he had been gone from his family for a rather long time, and he owed it to them to visit. Besides, he added hopefully, maybe the vacation tour would be short enough that he could join them on Yacarob later. 

            April pulled him aside later that night to talk to him privately. "Are you sure about this, Saber?" she asked him quietly. "You know how…stressed you become, sometimes, when it comes to family visits." 

            April had honest reason, more than the others, to be wary. The last time Saber had visited his family, they had – as usual – began to talk about his military career. The Riders had always had a tradition of service in the armed forces, but his parents would rather he had served in the UK's own army instead of enlisting in Cavalry Command. And besides, he had done it long enough, they thought. Wasn't it time he came home? He did have duties at home as well. April knew that the Riders, wonderful people though they were, tended to see the New Frontier as something quite separate – and therefore not really concerning them and their blood – from their own lands. The fact that their son was practically a legend in the New Frontier and helped to defend it from the Outriders hardly touched at all upon their thinking. And though Saber was not the sort who needed to have his every exploit acknowledged and acclaimed by everyone he met, April also knew that his parents' casual indifference to something that was so much a focus of his life hurt him. 

            To make a long story short, Saber broke off his visit and came storming back to Planet Yuma. April was the only other Star Sheriff on-planet at the time – Colt was visiting Robin, and Fireball was competing in the Daytona 500 on Earth – and she saw a captain angrier than she had ever seen him before, eyes stormy and injured at the same time; he spoke very little to anyone, and spent most of his time in the base's practice rooms. 

People learnt to clear a room whenever the Star Sheriff came into it with that look meaning he was about to engage in serious swordplay – and though there were other people in the base with some skill with the blades, not one of them offered to fence with the Highlander. April, the only person who could approach Saber without fear when he was practicing, saw him use more types of weapons than she had ever seen before. His usual cavalry saber, Japanese katanas, Italian spada filos, Scottish claymores, basilards and Nordic saex – even, once, the polished bamboo used in _arnis._ When he was practically demolishing a training dummy with a huge double-handed sword that was about as long as Saber was tall, April finally decided that perhaps they needed to talk. 

Saber finally calmed somewhat, and the ones in charge of training supplies at Cavalry Command thanked April. By the time Fireball and Colt came back, Saber was his old self again, and had talked to his parents over the vidcomm. Still, April felt a pang of worry when Saber announced his upcoming family reunion. 

"It'll be all right, April," Saber reassured his teammate. "Mother and Father and I hammered out a sort of…well, I suppose you could call it a treaty of sorts, in our letters and calls. Don't worry."

"Alright," April conceded. "Anyway, far be it from me to tell my captain what to do." She grinned at him. "Still, Saber, remember that you've got a scheduled trip to Yacarob if you need it, okay." 

"I shall."

Now, two weeks into his vacation, Saber was pleased that April's (and, he had to admit, his) worry was misplaced. There was no mention at all of his coming home to 'resume his duties' or leaving Cavalry Command. They had visited a few truly charming planets, and Saber went skiing and mountain-climbing and visited a beach almost as nice as Yacarob was – all in two weeks. He had a few friendly matches with his father, who reluctantly admitted that perhaps the time his son spent roaming the galaxy had given him a bit of an edge – for Saber now knew (and used) more weapons-styles than his father did. 

Of course, they had to visit a few of his parents' friends, which involved dressing up. Saber rather disliked it, but bore the visits with good grace – if his parents, after all, could make allowances for him, he could for them. 

They then arrived at their last destination, where Saber learnt why his parents had been to nice to him.

"WHAT?!" He gaped at his parents, the King and Queen of the UK – or, as the more old-fashioned Arusians would say, the Prydain sector. "What do you mean, betrothed?" Saber Rider, prince of the UK, heir to the Unicorn throne, and Star Sheriff, demanded. 

*** 

AN: Time out for a brief author's note. Obviously, I'm playing fast and loose here with the canon of _both_ series. To the purists out there, I apologize. Maybe you could regard it as an alternate universe? It's been a long time since I've seen an episode of either series. And I really wanted to make a SR/Voltron crossover that was, well, original. That post about the real, official SR/Voltron crossover inspired me. I would give my eyeteeth to see it, BTW. Any thoughts on where I could get it?

Does anyone know what color Saber's eyes are? I thought they were blue, but in Anny's pics they're green – and I looked at some screenshots, and you can't really determine the color from there. I made them green in this fic, BTW. About the Saber being a prince thing – well, it's pretty definite his family's at the least nobility. Maybe we could pretend that his parents or grandparents got really good at political maneuvering and ascended to the throne. About the part of his having some problems with his family – I kinda got the idea from a post in the ML I once saw. And I ended up rambling more about it in this story than I really planned to. It just ran away with me. About the weapons-bit – if Saber's so legendary and so good with the sword, I don't think it's too over the top that he would be acquainted with a variety of styles. Flexibility and multiplicity of techniques would make for a better swordsman anyway. If he can shoot, walk tightwires, and live with Native Americans, I don't see why he can't be good with more than just the sabre. About the arranged marriage thing: I know that I'm making Koran and Saber's parents sound a little more, well, domineering. But in this story they're honestly convinced that not only would the marriage of Saber and Allura be tremendously advantageous to both Arus and the UK (which is, BTW, based on the UK I described in House Rider) but also that both of them are made for each other and will fall madly in love if only they're shoved together for a little time first. 

So basically I'm begging the readers to suspend their disbelief for a little while reading it. Please? Thanks. And please, please, please, give feedback. Feed the hungry! Tuppence a pound! ^^;; 


	3. in which we see new alliances

            So in shock were the Space Explorers that when the door to the room burst open and the prince ran out, looking considerably wild about the eyes, they couldn't do a thing. He sprinted down the corridor, pushing blindly past the other boys, and was gone before they could do anything but stare. 

            They looked at each other silently, and as one ran after the vanished prince. Pidge stopped long enough to stow the speaker and the small black disc, hiding all traces of his electronic eavesdropping. And then he, too, began to chase Saber.

*** 

            It was neither they, nor the search parties Koran sent out, who found the missing prince. Allura herself found him. The 'meeting' in the small room had ended fifteen or so minutes after Saber bolted – which was exactly one second after he heard the words 'arranged marriage'. The king and queen of Prydain couldn't stop apologizing to Koran – although really, the old man seemed to regard their decision not to tell Saber as wise, considering that the prince really might have escaped to his…Cavalry Command….or whatever his army was called.

            Maybe he should have put off telling Allura, too.

            In any case, Allura (who had been a bit put out by the fact that the older ones were discussing _her_ upcoming marriage as if she wasn't there) had exited the room, and then, lost in thought, wandered around the castle. Once or twice, she thought she heard the boys calling to each other, but never actually saw them. 

            And then she found him.

*** 

            "So that's why you were so tense. I thought that surely a mere visit couldn't make you that scared."

            "So that's why you were so relaxed. I was surprised, you know – you were treating it like a sort of…lark."

            "If I had known, I assure you, I would have not been so nonchalant." Saber shuddered. "Marriage – ugh." He cast a quick glance over at Allura. "Er…no offense meant, Your Highness. It's just that, um, well…"

            "You don't want to get married yet? Not ready for commitment? Still need freedom?" 

            "…"

            "I could say something like 'typical commitment-shy male' or something like that, except – " Allura grinned, a little sheepishly, a little conspiratorially. "I agree." 

            They leaned against the railing of the balcony they were on, companionably silent. Amazing what a shared cause – such as keeping your guardians from marrying you off – could do to unite people. 

            "Is that why everyone was glaring at me earlier?"

            "Who's 'everyone'?" Allura asked, sincerely puzzled.

            "Your guards. Earlier today, the ones who escorted us all in?" 

            "Oh, them!" Allura said. "They aren't, well, exactly guards. They're a team of pilots sent by Galaxy Garrison. Space Explorers is what they call themselves. They're the ones who pilot the other Lions." 

            Saber nodded. "I see. They're your team, then."

            Allura looked sidewise at him. "What, no cracks about how come real Arusians aren't the ones piloting the Voltron Lions instead of offworlders?" She got that argument a lot.

            Saber shrugged. "If you've managed to keep Zarkon from taking over your planet for so long, then you must be really – what's the term – clicking together. If your team works well together, what does it matter where they come from?"

            Allura grinned. "You have no idea how many times I've tried to tell people that." 

*** 

            It had been a very stilted dinner that night. Koran and the Prydaini rulers got along like a house on fire, speaking quietly at one end of the table. No doubt planning more ways to force their will on himself and Allura, Saber thought bitterly, using his fork to stab his salad with a little more force than was strictly necessary. He was seated at the other end of the table, right next to Allura – too far away to hear them. 

The Space Explorers, who had been introduced to the Prydaini royals according to their real status, sat at the table as well – and though they were perfectly polite to the Riders, the way that they kept flicking venomous glares at Saber made the young man slightly nervous. 

            And despite his newfound friendship with the Princess, he couldn't exactly talk to her at the table. He wanted to dissuade his parents, not encourage them. Further, he had the feeling that Allura's team – protective little bunch, weren't they? – would have taken the Saber-hating up to another level if he had dared to speak a single word to Allura. Oh boy.

*** 

            Saber stood in front of his parents, glaring at them with coldly furious green eyes. The Riders had been put into a most spacious suite in the guest wing, a magnificent set of rooms with Persian carpets from Old Earth, Arusian carved darkwood furniture, and other various beautiful things from all over the galaxy. Arus knew how to entertain visiting royalty in style. Best of all, since there was no one else in the guest wing, Saber could yell all he wanted. 

            But yelling had never been his way. Instead, it was a curious thing about Saber that the angrier he got, the more still and quiet he became, drawing more and more into himself, _intensifying_ himself.

            Oh yes, Lan knew the signs. And Saber was now very angry indeed, judging by the way his son stood before him like a statue of ice, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides but not moving aside from that. He raised his eyes – green, like his son's – to meet that furious gaze. Why was it that other peoples' rages got compared to fires, while Saber's was more than anything like ice?

            "Marriage, father?"

            "A prince has duties to his kingdom," Lan answered coolly, his tone easily as frigid as Saber's. "And though you ignore them often enough to go gallivanting around the New Frontier – " Saber's fists tightened, " – this chance for formal alliance will not be ignored, Saber."

            "Aren't Arus and the UK allies already?"

            "We are, but not as close as we could be – and the only thing that could give us the desired degree of alliance is joint rulership – which, in turn, can only be achieved by bonds of marriage." He shrugged. "Royalty can ill-afford to throw away the advantages they gain by marrying. It is likely one of the most important things you can do for your kingdom, if it is done correctly. That is why we have been planning this ever since you were in your mother's womb." 

            Saber's eyes narrowed. 

            "Your mother and I were betrothed, just as you were, Saber," Lan continued. "And surely you know that we are very much in love, and have been for the whole of the marriage." 

            Saber, who knew the story – it was one of the UK's most beloved tales – retorted, "However, you neglect to mention that _your_ marriage was arranged with your input and you'd been best friends before that – for nearly all your lives. That's not exactly the case here." 

            Jalanda stepped inside the room then, and spoke for the first time. "Saber, _bachgen_, please try to understand. We are Riders – our lives are always lived for Prydain. And we hoped you'd understand that, and…"

            "I love the Highlands just as much as you do, mother, father – but though I will gladly fight and die for its freedom, I will not marry a stranger just for a political advantage!" 

            "You're not strangers. You said I and your father were best friends since birth? Well, _bach_, guess what? So were you." 

            "…what?!"

            "We took you to Allura's christening ceremony – you yourself were only around seven months old – and we held you over her crib, and you cooed and reached down and took her finger." 

            Jalanda smiled for a moment at the memory of it, and how she and Allura's mother, Kitania, had smiled and ooh'd and ahh'd over the cuteness of it. Lan and Alfor, men that they were, took it as a sign that the marriage they'd arranged was a stroke of genius. 

            "We visited Arus fairly often in those days – and the Arusian royals visited us as well. Lan and Alfor were good friends, you know. And Kitania was my first girlfriend – we met at school. I was the one who introduced Alfor to her. And, Saber, you and Allura were best friends. We've always had a bond to the Arusian ruling house."

            Saber shook his head, disbelieving. "I…I don't remember this…I don't…"

            Jalanda held up a small holocube. She pressed her finger against a small red button on the side. In the air above the cube an image appeared, of two small blond-haired children standing in the forecourt of Prydain's royal palace. It was a spring day, Polaris's pale sunlight adding a platinum gleam to both fair heads, and the little boy, grinning lopsidedly, held a battered looking teddy bear out of the reach of the girl, who was jumping for it. 

            "You called her Ally…."

            And just like that, Saber remembered.               

*_bach: _Welsh term of affection


	4. in which friendships and suspicions grow

            The Arusian dawn found Saber in the Castle's libraries, thumbing idly through an old though obviously beloved copy of the Arabian Nights. His sleep had been surprisingly deep; he thought he'd be up for hours, tossing and turning over this new development, but as soon as he lay his head on the pillow he'd dropped off. 

            He'd woken up early, though. The sun had yet to rise when he pulled on his clothes – a little more casual than what his parents would like, but they were quite formal (and uncomfortable) enough, in his opinion. He wandered around the castle silently, feeling little shocks of recognition here and there. Not enough so that he'd know his way around, but…he'd been here before. And often. 

            "Hello." 

            The soft voice startled him, and he whirled, still clutching the book, to see a blonde young woman standing in the doorway.

            "Al…Your Highness," Saber said, in his surprise almost calling her by a nickname. Allura came into the library, closing the door behind her as she entered. She was, like Saber, already dressed for the day – and like Saber, her clothes were much more casual than they had been yesterday. She looked at the book he was holding.

            "That used to be one of my favorites when I was a child," she told him, smiling. 

            "Really? What was your favorite story?"

            "Hmm. I'm not sure. I liked all of them. I think, though…the story of Sherezarde herself. She was clever to trick the Sultan like that. What's yours?"

            "I think I like the one about the prince and the djinn in the horse-shape." Saber was getting a little wary of this small-talk. They did after all have a rather large problem staring them in the face. No matter if she was apparently his childhood friend – a fact he still somewhat hard to acquaint his mind with – he _still_ did not want to marry her.

            But first he wanted to find out…

            "Who was your best friend when you were little?"

            Allura looked a little confused at this total departure from the topic. Too surprised not to answer, she replied, "Why, I suppose it was…" she thought back. She remembered him – how could she not – but it had been years since they'd seen each other. She remembered blond hair, a little paler than her own, and…laughing…green…eyes…

            _Lions preserve me_.

            "It was you!" she said, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. "I remember now! The boy…I called him Sei because I couldn't pronounce his name properly when I was younger and it stuck so that I never thought of him as Saber and I didn't think about him…you…because we haven't seen each other for so long and…I forgot! I forgot it was you!" She was rambling now.

            "So did I," Saber agreed, a little sheepishly. "I can't believe it, but…well, I remember now. Mother showed me a picture of the two of us when we were small." 

Allura shook her head. "This is weird. And why didn't Koran or Nanny tell me this?" 

            Saber shrugged. "Who knows? Speaking of our respective guardians…what do you think they'll try to do today? I mean, this whole business of the betrothal…"

            "They'll try to make us agree to it."

            "Then we'll just have to dissuade them of that, shan't we?" Saber said. They shared a conspiratorial grin.

*** 

            "Well, Lan, what do you think?"

            "Koran and I have been going over the numbers. If we do this right, then our economies' projected growth will jump by about ten percent – ten percent, Jal! – and that's not even counting the increased market size when we adopt free-trade practices between our sectors…"

            "That's nice, dear, but I meant what do you think of Saber and Allura?"

            A quiet smile. "They seem to be friendlier nowadays, don't they? Though Saber tries to hide it. It's obvious they would be a good match – their temperaments are similar, they complement each other."

            "He still thinks he can convince us out of it." 

            A snort. "Not bloody likely. Treaty's all but signed."

            "Saber's stubborn, and I don't think the princess is weak-spined, either."

            "If Saber's stubborn, whose fault do you think it is?" Lan grinned at his wife. "He'll see the light soon enough."

*** 

            "I don't like it," Lance announced as he stared out the window. The four Explorers were in the rec room, lounging about. There was nothing for them to do – no repairs, no attacks, and no princess to guard. Allura was currently ensconced in her throne room, going over wedding plans with the Prydaini royals and Koran.

            That is, the _older_ Prydaini and Koran planned the wedding, while Allura and the prince took every opportunity to remind their elders that they had no intentions of being wed, so they might as well not have all these party plans either. Allura had told the boys about the prince's own dislike of the betrothal, and that he was working as earnestly as her to overturn the decision. It hadn't really made them like him any more, though.

            "What don't you like, Lance?" Pidge asked after it became obvious that Lance wanted a response to his question. 

            "The way Allura and that prince guy are getting all buddy-buddy," Lance said, scowling. Everyone pretended not to notice how Keith's knuckles grew white on the book he was holding.

            "Um," Hunk said hesitantly, hoping to calm his captain somewhat. "Maybe you're reading too much into stuff, Lance?"

            "They're calling each other by their first names, Hunk!" Lance said impatiently. "Not just first names, nicknames! I heard that surfer-boy reject – " Lance's description made Pidge and Hunk grin a little, since as far as they knew, aside from his coloring Saber was the farthest thing from a surfer they had ever seen. " – call her Ally."

            In the corner, Keith's mouth tightened.


End file.
